


Castaway

by ykoriana



Series: tearing you asunder [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, POV First Person, Spoilers, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-20
Updated: 2009-05-20
Packaged: 2019-11-03 21:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17885342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ykoriana/pseuds/ykoriana
Summary: Spock Prime’s thoughts while marooned on Delta Vega. And then a stranger arrives…





	Castaway

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on May 20th 2009 on Livejournal. 
> 
> I still very much like the 2009 Star Trek film, though J.J. Abrams really blew it with Into Darkness.

Many years ago, truly in another lifetime, I sought to attain _Kolinahr_. I understand now how… illogical that would have been. I am both Vulcan and human. To wholly purge myself of emotion would have been a disservice to both sides. Emotion remains in the very essence of me, human and Vulcan. It took me a long time to accept and embrace this. To be grateful for it, even. How different would I have been, had I not the capacity to feel love, friendship and joy? Had I not the capacity to express such feelings to those who touched my life and made it whole?

I would not have been the Spock I am. But this is a bitter realization to achieve indeed. Because as Vulcan implodes in the sky like a night-blooming flower wilting under the morning light, I see that the price of love is pain.

Many years ago, I sought to attain _Kolinahr_. Had I done so, would I have felt anything at all upon witnessing the destruction of my home?

Ten billion people. The whole of the Vulcan race, or nearly. Are my parents among them? Am _I_ among them? I know the black hole hurled me back in time. I know the _Narada_ arrived much earlier. Nero said he waited 25 years for me. I cannot even begin to calculate the ways in which he might have altered events. His arrival, and mine, and the red matter technology which will only be developed over a century from now – all this has irrevocably changed the course of history. I am in the past, but it is no longer my past.

The knowledge does nothing to assuage the guilt and sorrow that overcome me. It is with great difficulty that I attempt a meditative exercise to still the maelstrom of emotion. I feel as if I were once again at the heart of the black hole that brought me here. But it is my own heart, and my own darkness, for I am lost and adrift and alone.

Foolish old man. _Foolish old man._  
  
I breathe deeply. I let still the tides of blood roaring through me. It is illogical to allow self-recrimination to paralyze me.

I breathe. Icy wind bites at my exposed face and my old knees have turned to stone. How long have I knelt here gazing into a now empty sky? I am peripherally aware of rising, retreating to a nearby cave, and resuming the meditation.

Outside the cave, the wind howls and I hear the voices of lost ones. I light a fire and see the twinkle of long lost eyes dance upon the flames.

He was my _t'hy'la_ , and twice I lost him.

I remember clearly the harrowed look on McCoy’s eyes as he told me of the events that took place on the _Enterprise-B_ ’s maiden voyage. Such loss and incredulity. A doctor he was, and no stranger to death, but it was as if he’d believed that Jim Kirk was going to live forever. Most illogical, and still I understood, for intimately I’d wanted to believe it also.

Many years later, Picard told me how Jim had really died. Strangely enough, I can hardly recall any details of this conversation. Only the pervading numbness that assailed me as I realized that Jim had been alive all those years, and that we had been apart.

I breathe. This was the path I chose. For there is no joy without sorrow. Had I known, on that day long ago when I abandoned the _Kolinahr_ ritual, that all this pain lay before me, still I would not have changed any of my actions.

I feel them before I hear them. There is a roar, and a rustle, then a humanoid figure scrambles into the cave, chased by a large indigenous carnivore. I rise with reflexes faster than I knew I still had, retrieve a torch, and use fire to frighten and expel the creature just as it is about to consume the humanoid as a meal.

I turn. The fragile inner peace I gained from few hours of meditation falls apart.

Standing before me, bruised, bloodied and breathless as always, is Jim Kirk.

A little younger than when we first met. A little wilder, perhaps? But unmistakably James T. Kirk. His life and youth warm the whole cave as if he were the Earth summer sun.

Our short exchange of words is beyond fascinating. It is perplexing. He did not know I was marooned here. I realize our encounter is entirely a chance one, and calculate the probabilities of such an occurrence at approximately 9,658,345,009 to 1. But such calculations are subject to an error margin much higher than usual. My logical reasoning is naturally impaired by emotion at this moment.

The inherent paradox of this situation does not escape me. But still I introduce myself in the only logical way.

“I have been and always shall be your friend." I watch the play of confusion on his face. "I am Spock.”

“Bullshit”, the young Kirk replies. Yes, he is unmistakably James T. Kirk. I wonder what his reaction would be if I gave in to my sudden desire to hug him.

Serenity arrives unbidden then, and great clarity of mind. Nothing is as it once was. I am both mournful and liberated by this realization. I know that from now on I shall always be alone, a castaway of the seas of time. But I am no longer adrift, for Jim Kirk stands before me once more.

**Author's Note:**

>  **t'hy'la** : Vulcan word with multiple layered meanings of friend-lover-lifelong companion, blood brother/sister; soulmate; soul-brother/sister


End file.
